


My Blood Red Heart

by camichats



Category: Marvel
Genre: Canon Divergence - Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Established Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, F/M, Fluff, Getting Together, Implied Sexual Content, Multi, Polyamory, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22747555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camichats/pseuds/camichats
Summary: Bucky recognizes his forgotten soulmate while in the middle of a fight. Natasha saves him, they save the day, and Tony invites them back to the Tower. Falling for her was easy, so why not fall for him too?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov/Tony Stark
Comments: 10
Kudos: 103
Collections: Marvel Polyship Bingo 2020





	My Blood Red Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for marvel polyship bingo B2-Murder Strut

The Soldier watched her run away, but there was no satisfaction in it, not when she was severely outgunned and still had the time to toss that fucking smirk over her shoulder as she went. She was the bigger threat. The target had gone down. He'd get back up, the Soldier knew that, but she could actually stop them if she wanted. She'd tricked him, and the only thing that had saved him was luck. She'd hit the glasses instead of an inch higher; that wasn't because of anything he'd done. 

His eyes followed her. She was taking a fairly straight path which would've been a mistake if she wasn't so obviously trying to prevent civilian casualties. " **I have her** ," he said. If they went after her, they wouldn't even make it a full minute. " **Find him.** " He vaulted over the concrete wall and landed on top of a car with a crash that made his legs ache for a moment. 

She ducked between two cars before he could raise his gun, and there were more cars on the other side of an overturned bus-- a miniature maze where the prize was pulling the trigger first. He strode to the other side of the road with sure steps, then slowed, glancing back and forth and listening for the smallest sound. She was too good to have loud steps, but he should be able to- he came to a stop. She was talking quietly, but it was enough. Calling for reinforcements wouldn't be enough to save her, but it could save the two men she'd been in the car with if the team accompanying him felt particularly useless today. 

He reached to his back with his left hand, fingers catching on a small bomb. He lowered himself and rolled it towards her, then straightened and raised his gun again; there was no way the bomb alone would kill her as she'd see it and dodge, but that would leave him with an opportunity. There was something familiar about her, more familiar than that shield the target had used on the bridge. His handler would mention it during the debrief, most likely, so he didn't need to think about it. The explosive went off and he tightened the gun to his shoulder, only to be thrown off balance when something hit the side of him and knocked the gun out of his hands. 

He didn't have the chance to get his feet under him before he heard the quick whir of a garrote wire, and he shoved his hand up near his neck. It just barely caught the wire in time, grinding against the metal of his hand, and as he tried to find his center again, the familiarity struck him again, more distinct than before. He stumbled backward and she hit a car with a grunt, but her grip didn't loosen. For a moment he tried to get the wire completely away, but the angle was bad and she had too much leverage where she was hanging off his shoulders. With his free hand, he reached up and gripped with the intent of throwing her over his shoulder. He started to, and then he froze, memories hitting him straight in the stomach like a brick. 

She fell barely a foot away from his aborted move. 

"Natasha," he gasped, and she stopped, half a second from throwing something at him. His eyes were wide, and he didn't know- what the _hell_ was going on? He stumbled back half a step, bumping into the car again, and this time he didn't move. 

She got to her feet, still holding that small disc in her hands. Her expression was hopeful but her body language was wary, angled so that she could throw it at him and make a run for it if she needed. Smart, but she'd always been smart. "Yasha," she returned evenly. 

" **What the hell is going on?** " he asked, and he didn't even care how desperate it came out. 

She glanced over his shoulder nervously, then back at him. " **Not now, we need to leave.** " 

He didn't know how to think about where he was or how he'd gotten to this specific point in time, but he could get them out. Leaving was easy. They started to run, moving together like no time had passed since they'd been on the same side. No words were necessary; when Natasha moved one way, he knew it meant they were about to take a hard left, and they moved in tandem. The deafening sound of a mini gun spitting bullets started, but it wasn't at them. She glanced towards the noise, slowly an almost unnoticeable amount. 

He grabbed her arm and made her keep pace, gruffly saying, " **They'll be fine.** " The target was up, and without him the others didn't stand a chance. If they took too long, there would be news sites coming to film, and they wouldn't be able to kill him; they would definitely take too long, the idiots. 

They made it far enough away, he took off the mask, and she lifted a hoodie for him. In DC, there wasn't really such a thing as 'out of the way'. Where there wasn't video surveillance, there were guards, and most of the time there were both. So when they stopped to try and formulate a plan, it wasn't because they were completely hidden, it was because they were as out of the way as they could be. There weren't any safe houses that would actually be safe. Fury was dead-- god, Bucky had killed him, he hadn't thought about it at the time, but that had been the last major defense against Hydra and he'd shot that chance without a though-- Hill was in the wind likely dead, and Rogers and Wilson were the ones in need of rescue. 

Natasha let out a frustrated breath. "We need backup." But there wasn't any. 

"What about Stark?" 

Natasha looked at him sharply. "We aren't dragging him into this mess." 

Bucky raised an eyebrow, staring at her flatly. "Right. Hydra taking over won't effect him at all." He knew it had been a damn long time since he'd known her, but since when did she care about people this way? Stark could more than take care of himself-- the multiple failed assassination attempts by Hydra were proof enough about that-- and if he could take care of himself, there was no reason for her to be worried. No reason that Bucky could think of right now, at least. 

"We aren't in New York." 

"He has a flying suit," Bucky said drily. 

"We have no way of contacting him," she tried. 

Bucky held up a phone he'd swiped from someone's bag-- they'd survive, they had another one for some reason. Hoodie pockets were great. He also had a couple snacks in there, but they were for after Natasha made the phone call that would save their asses. He cared about whatever was holding her back, but not more than he cared about their lives. 

With a regretful sigh, she snatched the phone from his hand and dialed, the number clearly memorized to perfection even though she couldn't have had much cause to use it. 

It was several, long rings before Tony answered, a confused, "Hello?" 

"It's Natasha." There was a shy, hesitant quality to her voice, and Bucky wondered when he'd stop being surprised by things now that he was... himself again. 

A pause, then, in a tone too casual to be genuine, Tony said, "You know, there was some footage of that epic battle you just got into. I know some drivers can be dumb, but I think you took it a little too hard this time. You gotta learn to take deep breaths and let it go. Maybe we should pencil you in for some meditation time with Bruce. So Steve and that other guy-- you know, the handsome one in the green shirt, he looks kinda familiar, maybe he should drop by when all is said and done-- got taken in by some people in SHIELD uniforms, and you vanished. I'd be offended you didn't call me in to join the party, but I'm guessing that's what this is. Unless you wanted to RSVP for the New Years party. Six months early is a bit much, but you spy types are always on top of things." 

Natasha smiled, but her tone was clear of it when she responded. "Not sure about New Years yet, but we could use some support down here." 

"Already in the suit. Where are you?" 

"What, you can't trace the call?" 

"Not while I'm tracking the transport that has Stevie-boy in it. Am I grabbing him or you first?" 

"Him. Yasha and I can survive a little longer without you." 

"Who the hell is Yasha?" 

Natasha's eyes flickered to Bucky. "Long story." 

"Okay," Tony said, drawing out the second syllable to show how much he didn't like that brushoff. "This number good to reach you at?" 

"We'll hold on to it until we hear from you." Normally she would ditch it right away, but there was no point when they had no other way to contact him. 

"I'd tell you when to expect a call except I'm breaking my own safety protocols right now, so maybe I'll die in a fiery twist of metal like my nanny always predicted. Stay safe," he said, then hung up. 

"You're close," Bucky noted. 

"Not really," she said, but she had to know that he could tell when she was lying. It was probably a soulmate thing that he always knew when she was telling the truth and when she wasn’t, because she'd always been able to fool handlers. 

Bucky didn't say anything to that, just pulled a cap from his hoodie pocket and offered it to her. 

She put it on and looped her hair through the hole in the back. "I did a profile on him right after Iron Man. We talk, but he doesn't trust me." 

"Anyone other than me trust you?" he asked, arm around her shoulders as they started walking again. 

"A few people." The one that recruited her to SHIELD. Fury, before he had died, maybe Hill as well. Steve might. He'd seen something about the Avengers before, but they seemed more like individuals with a common goal than a team. The fact that Natasha hadn't automatically called them was proof enough that they weren't a team. 

* * *

By the time the dust settled, it was obvious that Hydra had counted on Iron Man being out of the way. Bucky could recall some of Hydra talking about the Mandarin and the aftermath keeping Stark busy, but he didn't think that was important to share. Iron Man was there, a hell of a lot more firepower and brainpower than they'd planned for. Fury was alive and Hill was with him, which explained where they'd been at the start of this mess. Well, Fury was _barely_ alive. He'd kind of been shot to hell, and Bucky made eye contact with him exactly once to make sure he wasn't taking it personally. Maybe Fury trusted Natasha, but Bucky was part of the much larger group of 'everyone else' aka 'people he didn't trust'. 

It was ridiculously impressive how much everyone trusted Natasha actually. She might think she was untrustworthy, but everyone in the room believed in her. Proof? They'd all given Bucky suspicious looks and Stark had outright asked why they were trusting the guy that had been attacking them a couple hours ago, and all Natasha had to say was, "He's on our side," to shut them up. 

"Anyone need a place to stay?" Tony asked. Then, without waiting for an answer, "Of course you do. You-" he pointed at Fury and Hill "-lost your fancy carriers and compromised your entire organization. And you three-" Steve, Natasha, and Sam, but not Bucky since he'd basically been a Hydra attack dog "-lost your homes when they fucked up. C'mon, the tower's great. Pepper won't even be able to get mad at me for inviting all of you back." 

"Why would Pepper be mad at you?" Steve asked. 

"She doesn't like half of you. Natasha's her buddy, but she doesn't know Sam or Bucky. You SHIELD higher ups though, you're on thin ice. Something about paperwork and an inefficient organization, I don't really know." 

As they'd been doing all day, they just listened to Tony and followed after him. It was easy to do that when Tony was constantly proving to make the right decisions. Besides, who else were they going to listen to? Fury? He was the only other one with ideas, but right now he was bedridden, so his usual intimidation tactics didn't work. Plus he had a hell of a lot of work to do to rebuild SHIELD, and none of them needed to be there for that. 

Tony decided that instead of flying out to the Tower and grabbing the quinjet to get all of them, they were just going to drive. Bucky wasn't allowed, Sam refused, and Steve was banned from ever driving when Tony was around. Natasha could have, but Tony offered then went off to find a rental. Which meant that none of them got to complain when he showed up in a minivan with a gleeful smile. Of course, that did mean that no one sat in the front seat next to him since Sam and Steve had paired off and Natasha wasn't letting Bucky out of arm's reach. 

"This is fun," Tony said. "It's like I'm the mom-friend of the group. Wait until Rhodey hears about this, he'll mock you all silly, normally I'm the one that has to deal with that. And since none of you are in the passenger seat and get to complain, you have to deal with my music." He turned on something with lots of drums and screeching guitars, but after the first song he switched it to only be sounding in the front. 

The rest of them were silent for most of the drive. Steve was trying to process the fact that Bucky was alive but was nothing like how he'd used to be. They wouldn't be able to talk about it with everyone here, and that was if they talked about it at all. Bucky was closed off, silent and brooding. Natasha had mentioned the phrase 'tall dark and handsome' before, and he was pretty sure that was the category Bucky fell into now, as opposed to well groomed and a gentleman like he'd been before. 

Sam... well Bucky didn't know Sam all that well, but he was probably thinking about how weird it was that one day he'd been having breakfast and the next he was in a minivan with half the Avengers plus a newly retired Hydra assassin. That had to mess with anyone. As for Bucky and Natasha, well, they were used to not talking. 

"Sorry I ripped the steering wheel out," Bucky said to Sam. 

Sam grunted. He probably wanted an apology for trying to kill him, but Bucky would spend the rest of his life saying that to people if he started now so he didn't care very much. 

"He's grumpy because he hasn't had something to eat all day," Natasha said. 

"That sounds like an excuse to go to McDonald's," Tony called from the front, opting to yell over the music rather than turn it down. But he did turn it down when he got to the drive thru window because he was a nice guy. And because he was an even nicer guy, he got burgers for everyone, not just himself and Sam. But he was the only one that got a milkshake. Not that Bucky or Natasha minded, but he hadn't even offered. It was the principle of the matter. 

" **Do they know about you?** " Bucky asked her in a low tone. Steve, with his enhanced hearing, would've been able to make out the words if he spoke Russian. 

" **No.** " 

" **You going to tell them?** " 

" **It hasn't come up.** " 

Bucky snorted. Just because no one had directly asked her if she was enhanced didn't mean the topic hadn't come up. She was on a team with other enhanced people, they had definitely talked about it before. 

* * *

Natasha wrote down a quick summary instead of a full report. "SHIELD has bigger problems than the specifics of how they fell," was her excuse, and Bucky couldn't agree more. Steve, on the other hand, wrote down every little detail. He didn't send it anywhere, so it was likely a way for him to work through what had happened. Not that Bucky was around by the time he finished. Tony went to the kitchen then his workshop, and Sam stuck close to Steve's side. Whether that was because he was nervous or some other-- maybe soulmate related-- reason, he wasn't sure. 

Natasha either had a regular room she crashed in, or she just knew which rooms were available for use, because she dragged Bucky off to one of them without checking with Stark. She locked the door as soon as they were both inside, then pointed at a door off to the side. " **If you want to get cleaned up.** " 

Bucky didn't, really. He didn't want to do much of anything because that meant dealing with everything he couldn't remember and what he'd missed. But he'd always been able to listen to her, and right now was no exception. He walked towards the bathroom and started stripping off his tac vest. All the knives and guns lined up on a side table by the bed-- less than he should've had, he was running low after the fight-- before he went all the way into the bathroom. 

Memories were like sand-- you thought it was all gone until you shifted and found some more. It wasn't much, just the feeling whenever he untied his boots and pulled off his pants; it had been a while since he'd been able to do this in private. After the Red Room, he'd been kept on a damn short leash. Hydra didn't know what to do with him after that. Going on ice had hurt and made it worse for their long term plans for him. Wiping him _hurt_ , but it did help them out temporarily. He'd been a weapon. Not an assassin, not the Fist of Hydra like Pierce had taken to calling him. A weapon, meticulously cleaned and maintained. Slight chinks were overlooked because he had still been the best weapon they had, even dealing with the issues that consistently and continuously cropped up. 

The shoes had blood and dirt, and everything had been drenched in water at one point. Air drying was bullshit and made him feel crusty. He didn't really know how good laundry machines were, but the black of his pants covered any bloodstains that were there so it might not matter in the end. 

He stepped in the tub and turned on the water. Did he know how to work it? No, but it's not like hot water from a shower faucet could burn him. When the water first came on, it was freezing, but it turned warm quickly. Perks of using a rich fella's shower. He saw Natasha come in, and she closed the bathroom door. Her clothes really were ruined. She hadn't had her suit, so she was in the same clothes that she'd had on the interstate. Civilian clothes couldn't take a pounding for shit. The mud probably wouldn't come out, and the blood definitely wouldn't; as she undressed, she tossed the clothes directly into the trashcan. 

There was dirt crusted into her hair. She probably wasn't happy about that, said it reminded her of wading through a sewer-- Bucky never had asked why she knew how that felt when she'd been in the Red Room since she was eight. She joined him in the shower, sliding the distorted glass door across so they were closed off. She leaned her forehead against his back, neither of them moving. 

" **Do we have any clothes?** " 

" **There are extras in the closet.** " 

She hadn't checked since they entered, so she must have known that from past experience. Bucky sighed, grabbing the soap and rubbing it quickly across his chest and under his arms. It smelled pretty and floral, and it felt far too expensive. In the past fifty years, he'd had the type of soap that his healing factor had to work on. Effective in cleaning, but it stung like hell. 

Natasha helpfully moved her head from where she'd been leaning against him, but otherwise she did nothing, enjoying the steam and the company. 

A minute later, Bucky tried to move out of the way for her, but she stopped him with a hand on his waist and a raised eyebrow. " **You're not getting out with your hair like that.** " 

Like what? His hair was fine. 

Natasha rolled her eyes like she'd been able to hear that and grabbed a blue bottle from the shelf. She squirted some of the shampoo-- also floral, dear lord, Bucky was going to smell like a fucking bouquet when he got out-- into her hand and started lathering it into Bucky's hair. He closed his eyes, ostensibly to make sure none of it got in, and leaned into her hands. She spent more time massaging his scalp than was strictly necessary, but he wasn't going to complain and she wasn't going to mention it either. 

" **Rinse,** " she said, so Bucky tilted his head back and started to work on getting all the suds out. 

And after that, it was only fair to do her hair for her too. They stayed in there for a long time, but the water didn't turn cold-- perks of staying with someone rich. It was a good thing that they had nowhere to go, because now he didn't have to ask Natasha if they could stay; they _had_ to. 

Bucky dried off then collapsed on the bed without bothering to look for those clothes Natasha had mentioned. Chances were they wouldn't fit anyways. Natasha got under the covers next to him. Then she sighed. " **I left the light on.** " 

Bucky got up before she could do more than start to move, and he turned the light off before going back to bed. The mattress was like a goddamn marshmallow, the sheets a higher thread count than anything he'd touched before, and the blanket was already warming him up. It would be wonderful if it wasn't so different that it threw him off kilter. He didn't bother staying there for long before he got down and laid on the floor. 

" **Mm Yasha, what're you doing?** " 

" **Sleeping,** " he grumbled. 

She pushed herself up and scooted more towards his side of the bed, peering over the side at him. Enhanced eyesight was a perk of the serums they'd both been given. She couldn't make out his expression or exactly where his nose was, but she could see him. He was on his side, looking just as at ease as he'd ever been. Natasha liked the fluffy bed. What she would like even more, was to be next to Yasha while she slept; she always slept better when she wasn't by herself. So even though she'd been looking forward to an overly comfortable bed after months on SHIELD standard bedding, she got to her feet, pulling the blanket with her. 

Bucky lifted his head when he saw her moving, and he snorted when she laid down next to him. She was even nice enough to share the blanket with him. She wrapped an arm around his waist after she got all her hair out of the way. " **Get some sleep.** " 

* * *

Tony felt like pounding his head against the wall. So he did. He was an absolute, complete, total idiot for falling in love with Natasha. The only interest she'd ever shown in him was when she'd been undercover, and she hadn't trusted him for the longest time after that. He tried so hard to let her know that she could ask him for anything, and he didn't even care that it came off as desperate because he was and she certainly knew that. 

The long lost Bucky Barnes and assassin for Hydra was her boyfriend. That was not as big a surprise as the guy being alive in the first place, and he cared more about the first part than the second because he'd already known that he didn't stand a chance with her. 

Thankfully, everyone had come back to the Tower with him, so he didn't have to do anything pesky like stalk them to ask what he wanted to know. He was going to make breakfast as a peace offering (and also bring Barnes clothes because he definitely did not have a bag with him, and no way in hell was he going to be able to fit in what Nat had). 

The only problem with this plan was that it was nighttime. Tony sighed and headed to the workshop. "J, set an alarm for six thirty tomorrow morning, I need to remember to order breakfast." 

"Of course, sir." 

"Thanks buddy." Tony walked through the doors, and DUM-E activated from his charging station, wheeling out with a questioning beep. "Don't worry, kiddo, daddy's going to get some work done. Back to sleep with you." 

DUM-E, of course, didn't listen, and instead went to finish arranging the spare parts Tony had around for the cars. Since he wasn't going to be in the way doing that, Tony let him have his fun and opened up a few internet windows. Time to get to work on that mess Hydra had made. 

The time flew by when JARVIS gave him the set alarm, and even though Tony wasn't anywhere near done, he figured a break to recharge couldn't hurt, especially when the dealings with humans were more time sensitive. 

* * *

They woke up when someone knocked on the door. Natasha groaned, then yelled, "What!" in the direction of the door. 

"It's Tony! I was hoping for a little breakfast, maybe some juice, maybe the explanation about how you know Cap's old buddy!" A pause. "Or how he's alive, that would be good too!" 

Natasha groaned, then yelled back, "We'll meet you in the kitchen!" She planted her face against Bucky's chest for a moment, then pushed herself up. " **Do you have answers for him?** " 

" **You know as much as I do** ," Bucky mumbled, rubbing at his face. 

" **Great** ," she said, stretching. There were clothes around here somewhere, she just needed to find them and hope they were big enough for Bucky to fit into. If not, well, he'd dealt with far worse than walking around in tight pants. As it turned out, there were only clothes fit to Natasha's size, and he wouldn't be able to squeeze into any of that. " **I'll go ask Steve for some extras** ," she said, opening the door, only to pause. Right outside was a stack of jeans and a t-shirt. " **Nevermind.** " She picked them up and turned back around, kicking the door shut. She tossed them at Bucky and he caught them, then slid them on. 

"I don't really remember Steve," he said, zipping up the pants. "I don't remember what I was doing on the bridge." 

"What do you remember?" 

"The Red Room. Some of our missions afterwards. I... remember they-" he stopped. They'd found out about him and Natasha, and they'd sent him away because both of them were too valuable-- too well trained-- to kill. After that, just shadows of what he'd done. It was like trying to remember the details of a book he'd read years ago. He remembered a chair with jolts of electricity, he remembered the new order of Hydra and how they'd tried to convince him he was one of them, and he remembered ice. Flashes that didn't make sense. He didn't really remember Steve. More like a memory of a story he'd heard once. That wasn't what Steve would want to hear, he knew that much. "I don't remember anything important," he ended up saying. 

She looked at him for a minute; she knew he was holding something back, but she didn't press him about it. And that, right there, was why they got along so well. He didn't want to talk about it, and she knew that if she waited long enough, he'd bring it up again. Not that he wanted to admit that he'd bring it up again, but, well, they both knew better. "We might as well go to breakfast before Tony thinks we abandoned him." She opened the door and Bucky followed her automatically. 

Tony was munching on toast when they came in, and he pushed the massive jug of orange juice towards them. "I always thought one vintage super soldier was enough for a group, but I guess I'll have to reconsider." 

Bucky shrugged as he picked up the jug. Natasha put a glass between him and the orange juice, so he redirected and poured some in the glass. "Hydra experiments," he said nonchalantly. He drained the glass, then refilled it. "Fucks with your mind sometimes." And that's all he was going to say about it. 

Tony must have picked that up, because he accepted it. "Yeah, fuck Hydra, I think that's something we can all agree on. Not that I really care," he lied, "but how do you and Natasha know each other? She never worked for Hydra." 

"A lot of organizations help Hydra without working for them," Natasha said, and that was all she planned on saying too. 

"Do all spies have trouble answering questions like normal people, or is it just the two of you?" 

"When was the last time Clint answered a question straight that wasn't about food?" Nat countered. 

"You've got a point, but it doesn't match my annoyance with you so I'm going to pretend it's not true." 

Bucky snorted. No one bothered to tell him the really good things. Natasha was here, and obviously that was nice, but couldn't she have mentioned that Tony was funny? He'd kinda thought coming here would only lead to avoiding Steve, not actually enjoying anything else. 

Tony had ordered in, so he uncovered one of the breakfast platters and took a little for himself, then pushed the rest towards Nat. Then he opened a completely full one for Bucky. He haphazardly tossed forks into the containers, but it didn't look like he'd be surprised if they shoved their faces straight in. Whatever, he was starting with bacon anyways, he didn't need a fork for that. 

"Steve's not an easy person to keep out," Tony continued between new bites and half chewed food. "You don't have to talk to him today, and not about anything important, but when he starts cracking heads in, mine will be the first to go. You may not care about that, but I don't have a healing factor so I'd like to avoid all this possible damage." 

"He wouldn't hurt you," Natasha said, rolling her eyes. 

"That's what _you_ think; he likes you." 

"He likes you too." 

"Not as much. I think it's the hair, he prefers long and luxurious over well sculpted beards. I think it's a bullshit forties thing." 

"It's not," Bucky said. He didn't have any evidence for that, but he was pretty sure Steve had been unable to grow a beard for a while. After the serum that was probably fixed, but he wasn't over it. Or at least, that was his leading theory. Personally, Bucky had always liked a little facial hair. 

"Oh yeah? You like the beard?" Tony asked with a wink. 

"What's not to like?" he responded, and maybe it was a little too easy for him to say that. Natasha was too good to stare at him straight out for it, but he could tell that it perked her interest. 

* * *

"You like him," she said as soon as they were alone, back in the relative privacy of their room.

"You love him." 

They stared at each other. 

" **I have a crush,** " he said softly. " **He's handsome and doesn't look at me like he expects something.** " 

More silence. This should be the part where she admitted why she loved him. Bucky had never been the jealous sort, if only because that wasn't the sort of relationship they'd had. It had been intense and all consuming, but when she was working missions there wasn't room for that shit. 

" **I don't care.** " It doesn't matter if she loved someone other than him, they were still together. Another bedmate, another partner... they still had each other at the end of the day, and that was the only part he cared about. " **You love him,** " he said again, more gentle than before. Gentle was never something he'd been good at, but it felt like what the situation needed so he tried. 

Natasha swallowed. "Love is for children." And she'd never thought she had enough innocence to make it work. She didn't seem to realize that there was more to it than that. Oh when dealing with other people, she knew, but when it came to herself, it's like she forgot all the facts, all the statistics, all the reasons people behaved the way they did-- why _she_ behaved the way she did. He understood it all too well, but that didn't mean he knew how to help. 

"Is that what we had?" he mused. "Love?" Like jealousy, they hadn't worked in terms of 'love', but that was a different time for them. Already, he was settling into old patterns. He didn't quite remember why or what those patterns were, but he could feel himself sinking into them. 

"Had?" 

Bucky shrugged. "Have. You can't tell me you know what we're doing." 

"We're... existing." 

"Then why would I have a problem with you 'existing' with Tony too?" 

"You're not jealous," she snorted. 

That didn't even require a response; of course he wasn't. "That's my point." 

She looked at him for a long moment, then shook her head. 

He didn't bring it up again. Not later that night, not the next day, not the next week, and not at any point in the next month when they stayed at the Tower without really meaning to. It's just that leaving would mean having to figure out what-- if anything-- they wanted to do other than clean up after Shield. Staying meant Natasha could go about her life almost as if nothing had changed, and Bucky was able to catch up with Steve and work out the stupid amount of energy he had; staying on ice and being half starved meant he was never restless, but Tony kept insisting that he eat until he was full and this was the result-- fuck Tony. 

So when Bucky finally got an official answer from Natasha, it was over a month after he asked. Bucky was sharpening knives in the living room, all of them spread out on the carpet next to him on the ground. She sat on the couch behind him and said, "You're right." 

Of course, he had no fucking idea what that meant, because they hadn't been talking about anything this could apply to today. "About?" 

"Tony." 

Unfortunately, that didn't clear it up for him. He said a lot about Tony, and he already knew he was right about all of it. 

They sat in silence for a minute before she elaborated. "How I feel about him." 

"Yeah." A month wasn't that long for an admission. Tony might disagree if they ever got around to telling him, but he was what, forty? Natasha was twice that, and Bucky was maybe older, depending on how you calculated it. 

"You like him too." 

"Course I do, I already told you that." 

"You said it was a crush," she said, and the implication hung heavy in the air. It had only been a crush when he said it, because he was Tony fucking Stark, and he was Iron Man, and he was gorgeous, and he'd seen shit but still grinned every day like it didn't matter. Tony made everything easy but let you pretend it wasn't, and Bucky fell for him in the same way. Cause honestly, who the hell saw the Winter Soldier and decided they could force him to go to a carnival just to hold all the prizes they won? Tony, that's fucking who. Not that Bucky had gone alone, he'd dragged Natasha along, ostensibly so he wasn't suffering by himself but she'd definitely known better and Tony probably had too. 

The slight tightness in his chest was completely irrational; Natasha already knew what it had become, and she was just as okay with it as Bucky was with her own feelings. It was a conditioned response to admitting anything he cared about though, so he swallowed past it and said, "Was." 

"Are we telling him?" 

The knife made a clear sound against the stone as he slid it along the edge. "Why bother?" 

"He... might be interested." 

Bucky hummed noncommittally. It's not that he thought she was wrong, but he didn't think it would go anywhere good. Tony was... different. He wasn't like them. He was a hero, they were ex-Soviet assassins that did good things mostly by accident-- well, he did, Natasha actually tried. And if he _was_ interested and they _did_ end up with it going towards a future together, Tony was still going to end up dead long before both of them. That wasn't something he wanted to get caught up in. It just... wouldn't be worth it. Tony was worth a whole goddamn lot, but Bucky didn't want to invite that kinda heartbreak. 

Sometimes it felt like Natasha could read his mind, because she leaned forward, hair swishing against his ear and pressing a soft kiss to his temple. "You-" another kiss, this time to his cheek "-are so-" a kiss to his jaw "-stupid." 

"Thanks?" 

"If you don't have a good reason, we're telling him." 

"And if I say it makes me uncomfortable?" 

She kissed his cheek again before leaning back to her former position. "I would say you're lying and that means I don't have to listen to you. So don't try that." 

"Could I say anything to stop this?" 

Natasha curled a hand up his next to tangle her fingers in his hair. She scratched lightly at his scalp, and he stopped trying to sharpen his knives to enjoy it. "I'm not trying to force you into this. But I thought it was something we both wanted. I've seen the way you look at him, and there's no reason he wouldn't fit between us." 

"Don't say it like that or he'll think you mean sex." 

"Is that a yes?" 

"You know it is." 

Natasha hummed. "I suppose we'll have to plan how to ask him." 

He picked his hands back up and went back to work. "You're overthinking it. We ask him to dinner as a date, and that's our answer." 

* * *

"Tony, would you like to go to Geraldi's tonight?" Natasha asked. Tony was hunched over the shop's table working, Bucky was working on one of his cars, and Natasha was stacking the items in the fridge until Bucky wanted help. 

"Sure." 

"As a date?" 

Tony's head popped up, frowning. He looked at her, then Bucky, then back to her. "Uh. Did I miss something?" 

"Not as far as I know," Bucky said from where he was putting a muffler together. 

"Okay," Tony said slowly. 

"Great! We'll leave here at seven." 

Tony opened his mouth to say that that's not what he'd meant, but he closed it a moment later, frowning. "Seven, got it." He'd figure out what was going on later. For now, he was going to finish what he was doing. As for later, he was going to enjoy dinner when it happened because he fucking loved Geraldi's, and he wasn't going to let the impossibility of it being a date ruin the food. 

Bucky said something, but it was in Russian, and all Tony knew in Russian was 'more vodka' and 'take me home'; it hadn't really been a problem until now. " **That wasn't very clear.** " 

" **It was clear enough.** " 

Bucky snorted, and Tony looked over in worry. "Not you, doll. **Tricking him into saying yes does not count.** " 

Natasha scowled at him. " **I'll make it clear over dinner.** " 

" **I thought we didn't want him to misunderstand. He'll think that's sex.** " 

Her scowl deepened. 

"Is something wrong?" Tony asked, concerned. 

"No," they said together. 

That did _not_ make him feel better. He sighed and went back to what he was doing. It wasn't exactly soothing, but it was _something_ to do other than worrying about whatever the hell they were talking about. 

* * *

Tony drifted off to sleep, and Natasha looked over to see Bucky glaring at her. 

"What?" she hissed. 

"You said he wouldn't misunderstand," Bucky accused. Quietly, of course, because he didn't want to wake Tony up. 

"And he didn't!" 

"You're not supposed to have sex on the first date, even I know that." 

"Don't be so judgmental, lots of people do that. And we've known him for a while, so it's hardly a first meeting. We went on a date and then we came home and had sex, that's a perfectly reasonable first date when we've been friends for so long!" 

Bucky's glare deepened. "Wait and see, tomorrow he'll wake up and try to sneak off." 

"No he won't." 

"He will. He thinks it was a one night affair, you don't stick around after those." 

"We're in _his_ bed!" 

"And that won't stop him!" 

They stopped having a whispered argument over his body as they switched to just glaring at each other over his body. If he woke up right now, he would get quite the view. 

" **Go to sleep, Yasha.** " 

" **We fucked this up,** " Bucky grumbled. 

" **If he tries to leave, lay on top of him.** " 

" **What? Why can't you do it?** " 

" **You way a hundred pounds more. Don't be a baby,** " she said, then laid down so Bucky couldn't argue with her further. 

"Hmph." He laid down, curling into Tony's warmth. It was easier to do with Natasha since she knew he wanted that and could accommodate it, but after curving in as much as he could without achieving his goal, he hoped Tony wouldn't mind if Bucky rearranged him a little. Pick up an arm, slide under it, wiggle a leg between his, and Bucky finally felt situated enough to relax. 

* * *

Unsurprisingly, he was right, and he gave a pointed look to Natasha-- that she rolled her eyes at-- before dragging Tony back down onto the bed. "Where ya goin'," he mumbled. 

"Uh," Tony blanked at first, clearly not having expected to be caught, "the 'shop? I've got a couple projects I need to work on-" 

"Liar," Natasha muttered. Her voice was low, but still loud enough that Tony could definitely hear. "You were running away for no reason." 

"Oh there's a reason, and I think it's pretty obvious what that is. So if you'll just," Tony trailed off, trying unsuccessfully to dislodge Bucky's arm around his waist. 

"As the one that got us into this mess Natasha, you have t' fix it." Plus he was tired and words were hard to form. He could totally kill someone right now, but have a heart to heart? That was beyond what he could do this close to waking up. 

"If 'fix it' is code for kill me, you really really don't Natasha. We're friends, aren't we? You wouldn't kill one of your friends." Tony's voice was half joking half panicked. 

"What the idiot means is that last night was a date. As a precursor to other dates until you're comfortable with letting us call you our partner." 

Tony blinked. "What." 

"Like dating one person, only instead of one person, there's two of us." 

Bucky snorted. "Eloquent." 

"If you're not going to do better, shut it." 

"Three person relationship instead of two?" he offered, then yawned. 

"This isn't a joke, right?" Tony asked. "Cause if it is, it's mean and you should confess right now before I get it into my head that this is actually happening." 

"It's happenin' now will you go back to sleep?" Bucky grumbled. He only wanted one more hour, that wasn't so much to ask in his opinion. 

"What Bucky means is that no, it's not a joke. It's a serious offer, and you can think about it for as long as you want. If that includes some time alone right now, you can take it. If not, then pull the covers back up because it's getting cold." 

Tony did nothing for a long moment, then pulled the blanket up. "You are two very confusing people." Another pause. "I feel like I'm going to regret this, but not as much as you fuckers will." 

Natasha smothered her laugh, then spread her hand over Tony's chest. "Noted." 

"You can't make me regret anything more than I already do," Bucky claimed, yawning again. 

"I was making a joke, and you just break my heart," Tony said. 

"I'll try not to." 

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly though, Hydra would not have been able to handle the situation AT ALL if Tony had showed up to help. All that fire power on a suit so maneuverable?


End file.
